


Iris

by akaihoshi



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Flowers, Fluff, Just cute shit, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Slash, day of devotion, greil's devoted banner, that banner is a blessing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 15:51:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17769722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaihoshi/pseuds/akaihoshi
Summary: Soren likes irises, so Ike decides he likes them too.---AKA Where Greil's Devoted Ike got his hairpin.





	Iris

**Author's Note:**

> I had a dream about battle royal zombies and wood chippers, then work up and wrote this in one sitting. I'm still not sure what the relation is.
> 
> Short fic to celebrate the best banner of 2019 (and it's only FEB) for FEH. Greil's Devoted is a gift. Check the end for flower notes.
> 
> (...I'm... working on "The Fisherman and the Siren" I swear! This chapter's just really long!)

Those who know Soren, know him as a bit of a workaholic. Whether it’s bookkeeping, filing, consolidating foodstuffs, cleaning weaponry or scribbling down endless to-do lists for the other mercenaries, Soren never stops working.

Ike however, knows that Soren just likes to stay busy. It doesn’t matter if it’s real work or… anything else, really. It may come as a surprise to many but Soren has more hobbies than anyone else Ike knows – although… most of his hobbies can be easily mistaken for work by someone who doesn’t know him well.

And Ike knows him _very_ well.

He knows that Soren’s lips quirk upwards ever so slightly when he opens a brand new book – not that Ike knows much about books. He doesn’t read much but he makes a point to remember the covers and titles of the ones Soren likes the most so he can pick up similar ones when he’s in town; after all, Soren rarely purchases things for himself.

Soren’s spending habits are a little paradoxical when one realizes that Soren really enjoys shopping. A successful haggle – bait over jerky or quills or really any kind of general supply – puts him in a cheerful mood for hours afterwards. It’s part of the reason why Ike likes accompanying Soren into town. He knows Soren’s perfectly capable of carrying his own purchases but Ike always offers anyway.

There’s something about a happily humming Soren admiring roles of freshly dyed cloth that makes Ike tingle on the inside. The way his face lights up when they pass by the tailors or the dressmaker’s shop usually has Ike stifling a fond laugh. Who would have guessed that the frugal, sour-faced tactician had a fondness for fashion? Probably not many.

He wonders if Soren’s trying to keep it a secret. Like how he took up gardening a couple years back on the pretense of making herbal poultices and droughts then planted an entire beds worth of ornamental flowers Ike _knows_ have no medicinal purpose.

Like those Irises.

Ike has decided that Irises must be Soren’s favorite flower, otherwise why grow so many? They far outnumber the plants in Soren’s expansive herb garden and as far as Ike knows – he asked Mist – they’re not native to the area so even finding seeds would have been a challenge.

That’s why when Mist tells Ike they’ll be selling the Irises at the Day of Devotion celebration in town, Ike is more than surprised.

“…We’re selling them?” He asks.

“Well, yeah. What did you think we were going to do with them?” She tilts her head to the side, a little surprised herself at her brother’s reaction.

“I dunno,” Ike mumbles, “Nothing, I guess. I thought Soren was growing them for fun,” Mist giggles.

“Don’t be silly. Soren wouldn’t do that,” She bats him on the arm playfully, “He’s been growing them to sell. Flowers can be really profitable, you know?”

Ike frowns. While it does sound like something Soren would do, he has a hard time believing that Soren would do through the trouble of locating very specific exotic flowers just to turn around and sell them to festival-goers.

“Titania and I are going to town to pick up some things for tomorrow. Why don’t you help Soren with the flowers?” She smiles and skips cheerfully down the hallway before Ike can respond.

\-----

He finds Soren at the edge of the flowerbeds, a shock of black against a sea of blue. Oddly enough, while there are two large wicker baskets beside him, Soren hasn’t harvested a single flower. He’s preoccupied, it seems, by the rather large leather-bound book in his lap that he keeps cursing at.

Ike debates calling out to him, but doesn’t. He leans against the doorway and watches curiously as Soren takes tiny pinches of powders from small leather pouches and carefully mixes them in a stone bowl only to curse loudly, dump the contents and start afresh.

Ike watches three rounds of this behavior before approaching Soren.

“Hey,” Ike almost laughs when Soren startles. He takes a seat on the grass facing his addled strategist.

“I-Ike!” Soren stammers, “I… thought you went to town with the others,” Soren brushes some hair away from his face and sets his mortar and pestle aside. Ike can feel his lips twitching with amusement. Soren obviously hadn’t expected him to stay behind.

“Mist said you could use some help harvesting the flowers,” Ike leans back on his hands.

“Oh,” Soren averts his gaze, “I… suppose I could use help, yes. Thank you.”

Ike chews the inside of his cheek. Soren’s awfully fidgety. Nervous maybe? Or maybe reluctant? Ike still finds it difficult to believe that Soren wants to sell his flowers. He’s usually so protective over the things he likes.

“Hey,” Ike says, “You don’t… _have_ to sell them you know. We don’t need the money,” To Ike’s surprise, Soren smiles softly at him.

“It’s alright,” He says, “They’ll wither soon anyway. We might as well make use of them while we can.”

“Hmm,” Ike can’t put his finger on it, but something about Soren’s resigned disposition makes him feel like there’s a bit more to it than that. He’d ask Soren outright, but if their time together has taught him anything, it’s that Soren doesn’t answer direct questions unless he wants to.

His eyes flick down to the book in Soren’s lap and the small pouches of colored powders strewn about the grass.

“Sooo,” He says, “What’s all this for?”

“Huh?” There it is. That’s the look of discomfort Ike was looking for – the look that lets Ike know Soren has something he wants to say but isn’t sure if he should, “O-oh, um…” Soren chews his bottom lip, “It was just an experiment.”

“An experiment for…?” Ike goads.

“Nothing important, Ike,” Soren quips and shuts his book. He brushes some stray powder off his robe as he gets to his feet, “Come on. Let’s get to work.”

Ike catches Soren lightly by the sleeve, showing no signs of moving from his seat on the grass. It’s not a strong grip by any means; Soren could easily tug himself free, but Ike knows he won’t – he never does.

“Soren,” Ike says like that single word will convey everything he wants to say.

And it does.

Soren sighs.

“I was trying to… preserve them,” He mumbles after a long moment.

“The flowers?” Ike asks. Soren nods.

“I wanted to see if I could get them to last longer…” He says.

Ike breaks into a grin.

“So you _do_ like them,” He teases. Soren’s cheeks flush slightly.

“Th-that’s –!” Soren looks away and clears his throat, “Of course not. I just thought we could get a higher price if they never wilt,” Ike’s grin grows wider and Soren scowls at him.

“Uh-huh,” He says. If the redness of his cheeks is anything to go by, Soren knows Ike doesn’t believe him. He tugs his sleeve away when Ike starts to laugh. Soren thrusts a basket at Ike.

“Shut up and start picking,” He says, picking up a basket for himself and wading through the blossoms.

Ike thinks absently that Soren would look great in red.

\-----

It’s later that evening when Titania and Mist return with armfuls of clothing for the Day of Devotion festival – a surprise for the entire company. None of the mercenaries – save Soren – are particularly into formal wear, so watching each of the parade about in fancy garbs feels a bit surreal. Titania’s white dress feels especially out of place; in fact, Ike can’t remember the last time he’d seen her wearing anything other than pants. It certainly makes her feel more feminine.

His own clothes aren’t that much different from the tunic he usually wears, although they’re made of much nicer fabrics. The coat is a bit too flouncy for his tastes, especially with all the gold tassels. It makes him feel a bit like some hoity-toity noble, but Mist gushes over how great it looks on him and he’d really like a second opinion.

Unfortunately, Soren’s nowhere to be found.

He leaves the rest of the company to watch Mist excitedly twirl around in her new dress and heads down the hall in search of his friend.

The door to Soren’s room is ajar and through the crack Ike can barely make out Soren’s reflection in his dressing mirror. He smiles and pushes the door open.

“The color suits you,” Ike says, only slightly disappointed that he didn’t surprise Soren this time.

“It’s a little… bright…” Soren says, smoothing out the wrinkles of his bottle-green coat.

“Yeah. It looks good,” Ike smiles, “Green’s a good color on you.”

The redness returns to Soren’s cheeks as he fixes his waistband.

“You look good yourself,” He says with a quick survey to Ike’s outfit, “Not too different from your unusual tunic, but it’s nice.”

“Really? You don’t think the coat is a bit…?” Ike tugs at it so Soren can see the sides properly and gets a small laugh in response.

“Alright, so the tassels are a little much,” Soren twists one of them in his fingers, “But it is a nice coat. Suits you…” He trails his fingers down the sleeve of the coat and Ike shivers. He feels like he should say something in response, but he doesn’t have any words with which to do so.

Soren retreats to his desk for a moment, and places something small and soft in Ike’s hands. He doesn’t say anything as he closes Ike’s fingers around it, cheeks still flushed with what Ike assumes is embarrassment.

He opens his hands to find a rather large silk flower with six petals. It’s deep red, a few stray threads suggesting the craftsmanship of someone unused to sewing, with two deep green tassels dangling from the bottom mounted on a brass pin.

“It’s an Iris,” Soren says quietly, “I… couldn’t stop the real ones from wilting… so… um…”

Ike touches Soren’s cheek and startles him.

“Did you make this for me?” He asks.

“There was some leftover fabric from your coat…” Soren mumbles. He doesn’t shy away from Ike’s touch, nor lean into it, “I’m sorry it’s not very good…”

“What are you talking about?” Ike laughs, “This is great!” Soren blinks in surprise but grants him a tiny smile.

“I'm... glad you like it,” he says slowly. Ike tucks the flower securely behind his ear and twists his head so Soren can get a good look.

“How do I look?” He asks with a grin.

“…Ridiculous,” Soren says with a muffled laugh. Ike rolls his eyes in mock-hurt.

“Ridiculous?” he teases, “Just for that I’m going to wear this all day tomorrow.”

“In your hair?” Soren can’t keep the amusement out of his words.

“Yep. I’ll be wearing your favorite flower in my hair all day. How’s that for ridiculous?” Ike says. It’ll be embarrassing – heck, he already feels a little silly standing there with a flower in his hair. But Soren’s favorite flowers are slowly becoming his favorite too. He’s ok with feeling a little silly for a day.

“That sounds like it will suit you perfectly,” Soren chuckles right back.

Ike smiles and bumps his shoulder against Soren’s.

It really does suit him perfectly.

**Author's Note:**

> Something I really loved about this banner is that Ike and Soren share a flower. They both have Irises decorating their outfits - Ike's sword is made of white Irises (purity and loyalty), with a red iris in his hair (passion, radiance, romantic devotion). Meanwhile, Soren has blue irises (good news, "seeing someone in a different light") and gold iris pins. The other three don't have any irises at all so I thought that was cute as fuck.
> 
> ....I have also learned that the Iris flower is named after the "rainbow goddess" they called Iris. If that's not the gayest thing ever, idfk what is.
> 
> Now for the Japanese, Iris flowers are associated with romantic confessions. So that's fun.


End file.
